In the Wake of Devastation [Razorfang] Jan 17, 2013 15:20:18 GMT -5
Post by Fawntastic on Jan 17, 2013 15:20:18 GMT -5
It had been six sunrises since Blazestar's death had finally come out in the open; this also meant that it was six sunrises since Razorfang had first learned of her secret. Was it really still considered a secret? In the grief-stricken opinion of the rosy-hued RainClan she-cat, her secret had died with Blazestar, and no amount of hoping and praying would ever bring him back.
Grooming in a warm patch of winter sunlight, the she-cat rasped a bright pink tongue over subtle, creamy fur, trying to rid her legs of the light dirt splashes she had acquired when hunting near the NightClan border. It was obvious you were close to their marshy neighbors when the ground instantly grew soggier and rather peaty, even in the winter time. It was not because of Razorfang's words that Roselight had thrown herself into her warrior duties; it was the desire to keep her mind and her body occupied, the she-cat trying her damnedest to divorce her heart from her head, so long as the former was still causing her so much pain.
I'll never feel anything again, she had declared to herself just the other day. Though it was a fruitless attempt at shutting down her emotions, the simple act of trying seemed to lessen the heavy amounts of stress weighing on her like a boulder.
Stripping the grim from her foreleg with quick but purposeful swipes of her tongue, Roselight kept one eye wearily fixed on the other side of camp, as if expecting at any moment for Sandstar to stride from his den and announce her banishment to the Clan. Only Henfeather, her best friend, knew that Razorfang knew her secret, so only Henfeather was walking on eggshells along with her, Roselight having been too selfish to bear this burden alone. It had felt like she would explode if she didn't tell anyone; though Henfeather could not truly mourn Blazestar's passing, the fluffy she-cat could at least feel sad for her closest friend, and be there when her world started to crumble.
So far, there were cracks in the crust, but the earth had yet to split open and swallow her up. With only a grackle about to be caught this morning, Roselight already made plans to go out hunting again, having returned to camp only so that she might have a word with Russetpaw - who knew not of what plagued his cousin - get a drink of water, and do a bit of grooming.
One would think that, in her grief period, Roselight would have ceased all maintenance activities, but everyone grieved in a different way. Roselight grieved in complete and utter silence, forcibly sliding into an almost robotic method of dealing with the situation, preferring not to wail her suffering to the stars, but to act as though she knew not what suffering was.
Never let them see you bleed.
Such was the motto of her family. They were proud and had a long lineage within RainClan (and TreeClan, but her father would rather chew off his own foot than admit it), and not even the death of a loved one would make them fold before the eyes of the public.
Word Count: 551